


Seeing Double

by DualWieldingCousland (DualWieldingMama)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 06:16:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5956746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DualWieldingMama/pseuds/DualWieldingCousland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A while back, Girl_Chama and I discovered we had Inquisitors who not only look very similar, but have similar sounding names.  This was just a silly idea that popped in my head recently and would not leave me alone, so I kind of played with it and ran.  I’m pretty sure that I didn’t get her Inquisitor quite right, but I was trying to be sneaky so she didn’t know til it was done. </p>
<p>(also, full disclosure - A large part of the reason I wrote this was because I knew she was going through some shit at the time, and wanted to try and cheer her up.  I hope it worked, at least a little)</p>
<p>So without further ado, here are Regina Trevelyan and Regan Trevelyan</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeing Double

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Girl_chama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Girl_chama/gifts).



Regan walked past the mirror four times before she actually _noticed_ it.  The first pass, she figured someone was moving it and had simply taken a break; she hadn’t given it a second thought.  The second and third passes, she’d been so distracted with Inquisition business that she hadn’t even _seen_ the thing leaning against the stone wall along the battlements.  It wasn’t until the fourth go-by that she actually realized it hadn’t moved from that spot, so she stopped and _looked_ at it.

It was a fairly non-descript mirror … didn’t look much different from the one she’d caught a glimpse of Vivienne having delivered not long after reaching Skyhold.  It was … maybe a foot taller than she was, and about twice as wide; she could easily get a hand on either side of the frame, should she decide to move it.  The glass was clean … somehow there were no fingerprints at all on the surface, despite having been outside, where people passed by near constantly, for several days.  She decided to move it to a nearby storage room, at least to get it out of the weather.

       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Regina noticed the mirror almost as soon as it entered Skyhold.  The runners who delivered it couldn’t tell her who, exactly, it had come from; only that it was a gift from some noble in Orlais.  Or was it Tantervale?  No matter; it was here, now, and they had no way to send it back.  She had them put it in a storage room, far enough from the important offices to be safe, but near enough that _someone_ would be walking by every couple hours, at least, just in case.

She couldn’t see anything unusual about it, really.  It didn’t _feel_ magical.  The craftsmanship was … fine; it was very well made and just ornate enough to have come from Orlais.  It was tall … more than a foot taller than she was, actually, and almost too wide for her to get ahold of.  If she was going to move it again, she’d need to have at least one runner help, if not more.  The strangest thing about it, though, was that the glass showed absolutely _no_ indication that it had been touched … at all.  She’d even gone so far as to poke at the glass, sure she’d leave at least a fingerprint or two.  But there had been nothing.  

        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Any idea who that mirror on the battlements belongs to?”  She sat in the tavern with Cullen and Cassandra, enjoying a rare moment of calm.  “It’s been there for over a month now, and no one’s bothered to move it.”  Her fingers traced along the rim of her mug, catching Cullen’s eye momentarily and feeling her cheeks grow warm.  Maker’s ass, why did just _seeing_ him smiling at her make her go all fluttery?  

“I believe Josephine said it was a … gift from Orlais.”  Cassandra pursed her lips, not necessarily pleased that the object had been left sitting out for days without someone at least _telling_ them what it was.

“Leave it to the Orlesians to send something like that without better documentation.”  Cullen just shook his head.  “It took Josephine days to track down the shipping manifest for it and determine which noble sent it.”

“Well, I suppose I should keep it, then … if it’s a _gift_.”  Regan ran her fingers through her hair and sighed.  She glanced down at her current wardrobe and smirked.  “And my mother would likely insist that I need at least _one_ mirror in my chambers for when nobility just … drops by.”

“I’ll have some men move it today, then,” Cullen offered, wondering if he should just do it himself.  “Or I could … well, I could move it if you … if our men ….”  He sighed, ignoring the amused smile on Cassandra’s face, and started over.  “Rather than disrupt the runners’ current tasks, I’ll take care of moving it, if that is alright?”

“Thank you, Cullen.”  Regan pinned her lip between her teeth and smiled, fully aware that the heat from her cheeks had grown to include her ears.  “I … would like that.”

        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“So we still don’t know who sent that mirror?”  Regina sat next to Cullen, just close enough for their legs to touch and hidden hand-holding to occur, with Cassandra across from them.  They were picking at a roast that the kitchens had brought out, enjoying the momentary lapse in emergencies.

“Just that it came from Orlais,” Cassandra confirmed, savoring the flavor of the meat.  It was rare she actually had a chance to just enjoy a meal without wondering where the next attack would come from.

“Leave it to the Orlesians to send something like that without more information.”  Cullen just shook his head and took a long drink from the mug of ale in front of him.    “Josephine _still_ hasn’t been able to determine which Orlesian noble sent the blasted thing.”

“I suppose it should go in my chambers, then.”  Regina sighed, wondering where, exactly, the mirror would go.  “It wouldn’t do to offend the nameless noble by throwing it off the battlements.”

“I … can have some men move it today, if you wish.”  Cullen looked over, smiling warmly when her eyes locked on his.  “Or, I could … well, I could bring it myself, if you prefer?”  He sighed, wishing his offer had come out more confident; he had to ignore the amused smile on Cassandra’s face and was fully aware that she would say something at some point.

“Thank you, Cullen.”  Regina grinned over at him, a hand landing on his arm to give a squeeze.  “I appreciate it.”

      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The mirror had been in her room for a month now, and she’d nearly forgotten about it.  She’d catch a glimpse of herself in the glass as she passed by, and most days nothing unusual looked back at her.  But there were _some_ days where she could swear something was off – her hair looked different … a jacket was a different color … the style of a tunic or jacket looked different ….  She passed it off as her imagination … at first.  Then her reflection starting appearing when she was nowhere _near_ the mirror; _then_ she got curious.

      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Regan approached the mirror from the side, staying out of the way until she was standing next to it.  She did her best to shift just enough to see what was reflected in the mirror without being in front of it, and slowly moved her hand out so that it was reflected in the glass.  Everything was normal.  She took it a step further … moved in front of the mirror and … saw herself staring back.  Same auburn hair, same violet eyes; she’d finally gotten used to _those_ eyes staring back at her instead of her father’s hazel.  “Just … my imagination, I guess.”   She rubbed her eyes and sighed; maybe she was working too hard?

She expected to see the tired expression she knew was on her face when she pulled her hand away.  What she got, however, was something a bit different.  She was still there, but … shorter?  Her clothes were … similar, but not exact; the color was off and the cut was just a hair different.  Her hair was a different color too.  Was it a change in the lighting?  The reflection’s expression wasn’t quite right either … she knew she was biting her lip, but _it_ was just … looking perplexed with pursed lips.  She could see some sort of … staff in the background… where her blades should be, and the eyes … her reflection’s eyes were _blue_!?  

      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Regina pursed her lips as she stared at the mirror.  Over the last several days, she’d noticed strange things showing up in the glass that weren’t in _her_ room.  She could have sworn she saw someone walk past it when she was on the other side of the room.  Or she suddenly had to crane her neck to see her face when it should have been right across from her.  But all she could see now was herself; right height, right hair and eyes … clothes all matched.  She closed her eyes and pressed fingers against the bridge of her nose.  

Her hand fell away and she expected to meet her one gaze, tell herself she was being silly, and meet Cullen for another look at the soldiers.  What greeted her instead was a chin attached to a bottom lip pinned beneath teeth.  She looked up until she found a pair of eyes that weren’t her own, staring back at her.  She could see a raised brow and a look of confusion that she was sure mirrored her own … even if she couldn’t _see_ her own.  The hair was … almost right; the reflection’s hair seemed to be redder than her brunette, as if those auburn highlights Sera had commented on once had taken over the entirety of her head.  The clothes were off too, similar but not _hers_.  And in the back … that wasn’t her staff; were those … daggers?  They were, weren’t they?

“Oh … my … word.”

     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Maker’s _ass_!”  Regan stumbled back and reached for daggers that weren’t there, nearly falling on her arse.  She looked over her shoulder to see them right where she’d left them … leaning against the far wall, right where the staff had been in the reflection.  What sort of magic was _this_?  Had someone done something … maybe drugged her?  Or done something to the mirror?  Or both?  Why was she seeing a reflection that wasn’t her?  

She _should_ call for someone … Cullen or Cassandra or Dorian; someone who could figure out if it was magic of some sort and either counteract … or stop it.  She knew she _should_ , but she didn’t.  Instead, she moved back to where she had been … standing right in front of the mirror … and made the silliest face she could think of.  If this was _any_ sort of reflection, it should do the same, right?

      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Regina watched as the reflection jumped back … something she most certainly did _not_ do.  What was going on here?  She took a breath and reached out with her magic, checking the mirror over for any trace of who … or what … had bewitched the mirror.  She found … nothing; nothing that would suggest that the mirror had been cursed or altered or in any way magicked to create a not-quite-mirror image that moved on its own.  

She knew she should tell Cullen, or Cassandra, or Leliana.  The potential for the mirror to have been sent as some form of method of spying had not escaped her.  But for the moment, she just … watched the reflection that was make odd faces.  Curious, she reached out toward the other her’s nose, fully expecting to feel glass beneath her finger.  Instead, she felt something rather … soft, almost warm and fleshy.

     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Regan felt her eyes cross as the as the surface of the mirror shimmered and bowed, reaching out until it came to rest against the tip of her nose.  It felt … less cold than she would have imagined … if she could have ever imagined such a thing happening.  Instead, it was warm, almost like it was … human.  Without thinking, her hand flew up, grabbed at the wrist that was just barely formed by the glassy surface, and _pulled_.  She expected … well, she wasn’t really sure _what_ she expected, but she _didn’t_ expect a body to come flying through the mirror, knocking her to the floor.  

Regina let out the smallest yelp possible as she was tugged through the mirror, grasping uselessly for her staff.  This is what she got for being curious, she supposed.  There was nothing she could to do prepare for what met her on the other side, knocking into someone and sending them both to the ground.  She was first to rise, largely because she ended up on top of the other person, and she scrambled a few feet away, trying to look as though she had expected that.

Regan struggled to her feet; having the wind knocked out of her by another version of her … a _shorter_ version, it seemed … made it difficult to rise immediately.  Once she was upright, she all but dove for her daggers.  Whatever sort of trick or attack this was, she wasn’t going to go down without a fight.  “Who in Andraste’s flaming balls are _you_?”

“Who are _you_?”  Regina eyed the other woman’s blades carefully while dropping into a more appropriate combat stance.  She may not have her staff, but she didn’t really _need_ it to cast.  She would have preferred to be wearing at least her traveling armor, but the simple vest, linen shirt, and trousers would have to suffice.  At least the other woman was similarly clothed.  Wait … this other woman … she looked … familiar.

“My room, my question.”  Regan tensed, watching the woman for any sign that she was about to attack.  She didn’t know if the woman had weapons hidden somewhere, or … worse for her, a mage.  A mage would definitely be at an advantage, even in a strange place.  “Now talk.”

Regina tilted her head and watched the other woman carefully.  She didn’t seem like she really wanted to attack.  Anyone else would have likely already charged, or tried _something_ physical.  “Alright, we’ll talk.  My name is Regina.”  It was uncanny how much like her the other woman appeared.  There were the obvious differences – the other woman was a good 5 or so inches taller, with a build that definitely was made for more physical combat than her own; the hair was redder, the entirety of her head matching the few highlights in her own brunette mane.

“Regan.”  She wasn’t sure what to make of … well, anything.  She felt the hair on her arms tingle … a lot like they did around Dorian when he was pulling on … whatever it was he did before casting.  “You’re a mage.”  Her gaze locked on the smaller woman’s blue eyes, watching for any hint of denial or telegraphing of a move.  She’d trained a bit with Cullen … and Aaron and Gabriel when she was younger … so she had a vague idea how to handle a mage in a stand-off.  “How’d you get here?”

“You pulled me here.”

“So you sent the mirror here to sneak into Skyhold?”

“Or you sent one to me so you could kidnap me.”  Regina started to pull little bits of magical energy to her, letting it start to grow in one hand, deftly tucked behind her back.

“Why in the Maker’s holy bride’s ass would I want to kidnap someone who looks like _me_?  I already have a twin!”  Regan felt the air get … weird; there was no other real word for it.  The air got weird, just like it did before Dorian or Vivienne or Solas made an attack.  She wasn’t about to let this stranger get the drop on her.  With a shout, she tore forward, blades coming forward as fast as she could.

Regina pulled on the magical energies around her, took a breath and focused on the spot in front of her, sending a blast of ….

….

….

     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Regina’s head shot up, eyes wide as she looked around.  She’d apparently fallen asleep in the gardens.  Maker’s breath, that had been the _strangest_ dream.  No more dwarven ale for her.  She rubbed her eyes and ran fingers through her hair.  “Another woman that looked _that_ much like me; in another Skyhold?  Where do I get such silly ideas.”  

“Inquisitor?”  A runner came into the gardens, obviously looking for _her_.  

Regina waved him over, still trying to shake the remnants of the strange dream from her mind.

“A … delivery from Orlais for you, Inquisitor; or maybe it was from one of the Free Marches.  The scouts were rather vague.”

“What … sort of delivery?”  Suddenly, a small chill went down her spine.  It couldn’t be … could it?  She followed the runner up to the battlements and stopped dead in her tracks.  Cullen was blocking the path of two of the Inquisition’s men carrying a mirror … much like the one from her dream.  She could hear the annoyance in his voice when he discovered that they didn’t know exactly where the gift was from.

“What do you mean you don’t know?   _Someone_ had to tell you to bring it to the Inquisitor!”

Without waiting for an answer, Regina hurried over and glared at the men until they set the mirror against the stone wall and stepped away.  She didn’t bother speaking; she just bent down, lifted the bottom of the frame up, and up … and up some more, until the mirror tumbled over the wall, plummeting to the rocks and snow below.

“What was that for?”  Cullen was understandably confused.  It wasn’t like her to so blatantly refuse a gift, even if they didn’t know who exactly it was from.  

“It wouldn’t have looked right in my chambers.”  She knew she couldn’t tell him about the dream.  It was all too … strange.  And really, there was probably nothing wrong with that mirror.  But she didn’t want to take that chance.  The memory of those blades … and that woman’s intense violet eyes charging at her … was enough to convince her she’d made the right decision.


End file.
